


Love Sticks, Sweat Drips

by Attaining



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Bottom!Jon, Bottom!Theon, Castration, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub, F/F, Face-Fucking, Femslash, First Time, Humiliation, Internalized Homophobia, Kink, M/M, Master/Slave, Painful Sex, Past Sexual Abuse, Porn, Power Play, Rimming, Rough Sex, Short Fics, Slapping, Slash, Spanking, Sub!Yara, There is no plot, Top!Jon, Underage Sex, dom!Dany, gay porn, pure filth, top!Robb, top!Theon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 18:59:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16290008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Attaining/pseuds/Attaining
Summary: This is just a place to put some shameless and short kink porn. I hear October is a good month for that. This could be it or there could be more?!Ch 1: Dany/Yara - Dany punishes Yara for her disrespect.Ch 2: Jon/Theon - Healing trauma through power play. Past non-con implied. Modern AU.Ch 3: Robb/Theon - Post Whispering Wood, Robb takes his anger out on Theon.Ch 4: Jon/Theon: Set pre-series, Theon tops Jon for the first time. Some Jon/Theon smut that didn't quite make it into Heart of the North. Implied Jon/Robb, Theon/Robb.Ch 5: Robb/Theon: Theon and Robb spend the night together before the Night King reaches Winterfell. Another cut scene from Heart of The North.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I MEAN... it's just kink porn. Any plot is really just a pretense for porn. I hope it tickles your fancy. Thanks for reading. :)
> 
> Warning for past sexual abuse and physical violence and anything Ramsay has ever done.
> 
> Title is from Florence + The Machine's "Kiss With A Fist."

“Get on your knees,” Daenerys said calmly, staring down at the would be Queen of the Iron Islands. Wind blew sharply, cutting into her bare flesh as they stood on a cliff at Dragonstone. Salt spray kissed her cheeks and she stepped toward the Dragon Queen unafraid. The ocean was at her back, her home. _I’m up for anything, I said..._

Daenerys grabbed her hair in her fingers and dragged Yara forward, pulling her down to her knees. Yara let herself fall, wondering if a dragon could tame a kraken or if she would drown her fire out. The sting across her cheek as Daenerys slapped her shot to her cunt. “Naughty thing. I told you to get on your knees.”

“Never was a good girl,” Yara admitted, licking her bottom lip. If her men walked the beach below, they would see her ass bare. Gooseflesh prickled her everywhere. They’d be furious and horny to see it, Yara naked on her knees, hands tied behind her back, staring up at another woman. _They’d toss themselves before they’d rescue me._ Humiliation and shame mixed into the red on her cheeks. Someone had to tame her, her father always said.

Daenerys wore a black dress that lacked most of its front and blew high in the wind, a fucking siren. She hummed then and with both hands shoved Yara’s face into her pretty highborn cunt. She tasted like summer berries and the last copper tang of her moon’s blood.

Daenerys stilled Yara’s head. “Don’t move.”

A moan bubbled from her throat as the silver queen thrusted her wet folds against Yara’s open mouth. Daenerys was fucking her face with her perfectly trimmed cunt and Yara struggled to breath. _Fuck, yes_. She wanted to dig her nails into those pale hips, but her hands were bound in rope from her own ship. Her tongue trailed from Daenerys’ entrance up to swirl her little nub and The Dragon Queen set each movement.

“That’s it,” Daenerys praised her, petting her hair, and Yara felt herself drip onto the grass below. Rocks bit her knees and she greedily lapped at her heat, letting her cream run down her chin. “Next time you’ll call me Your Grace in front of your men.”

She keened and shuddered at Daenerys’ words, squirming and desperate. “Yes, Your Grace.”


	2. Jon/Theon: Modern AU (Not That It Matters)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon/Theon: Modern AU, power play after trauma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I was like, what if Jon was a disgraced cop and Theon survived a serial killer but then it was really just porn with vague modern references. :D;

“Spread that ass open for me,” he growled, slapping Theon’s pale behind. Theon whimpered and did as he was told, his puckered hole waiting to be filled with Jon’s fingers. He spit down his crack and rubbed his fingers there. Jon cupped his scar, where his cock should be. “What’re you good for now?”

A small sob escaped him. “Nothing. Anything you want, Master.”

Jon slapped each cheek and squeeze them both. “I want you to know what you are.”

Theon panted then, shuddering at each slap. “I know what I am. Reek. Your Reek. I’m your creature.”

Each snap at his cheeks echoed in Jon’s small apartment, Theon’s ass turning redder by the moment. “And?”

Theon’s tears spilled down his cheeks and he openly cried now. Jon wished he felt a twinge of guilt, but he liked taking his anger out on Theon and Theon liked to take it. Jon hit him harder and Theon yelped. “Your whore.”

“That’s it,” Jon purred, grabbing him by his hair and shoving his face into the mattress. He tugged his hair again to reward him. “Good boy.”

Theon moaned. He writhed and twisted and would do anything for Jon’s praise. He let a long drizzle of lube drip down Theon’s backside and over his hole. Jon slipped in a finger and a second followed. He hardly waited before slipping in a third and fucking him hard. Theon screamed and backed onto his fingers, trying to suck him up inside his tight little ass. _I love this too much_ , Jon thought, blood rushing to his cock, straining against his briefs.

“Please, Master,” Theon begged. Jon liked it when he begged, let him make up for all the shit he put them through, put Robb through. He’d been missing for two years and came back in literal pieces. Jon almost died at the hands of backstabbing traitors like Theon. Let him beg for Jon’s cock. “Please fuck me.”

He pulled his fingers from Theon’s insides and brought them to his lips. Theon hungrily took them into his mouth, sucking them like he was meant for it. “Dirty.”

Theon nodded against his fingers, blue green eyes big with need. “Please stuff me with your cock, Master. I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Yes, you will,” Jon said, shoving him into position and stroking himself. He couldn’t help but groan as Theon’s tight heat met the head of his cock. The stubborn ring of muscle gave way and they both gasped as Jon sank deep into him.

Every time, he couldn’t believe they’d ended up here. Theon, who used to bully him endlessly, spread around his cock, pliant and submissive. Jon, once quiet and sullen, grunting and thrusting into him like a wild beast, pinning his arms behind his back and watching his face sink deeper and deeper into the mattress. Theon would cry and beg to be filled up with his cum, and Jon would never deny him. They’d lie there, Jon spent and breathless, Theon shaking with semen dripping from between his legs, and Theon would whisper, “Thank you, Jon.”

  
For some reason he still could not understand, he’d kiss Theon’s forehead and pull him onto his chest to sleep.


	3. Robb/Theon: Post Whispering Wood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robb/Theon: After Robb wins the Whispering Wood, he takes his anger out on Theon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Throbb, my heart. The internalized homophobia is strong here. Poor unrequited darlings.
> 
> I would say this is beta'd but it definitely is not. I'll give it another read over tomorrow. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!

He would tear him open and Robb didn’t care. He saw red and dead men. Capturing the Kingslayer meant sending two thousand Northerners to die. He just wanted his family back. Gods, what was he doing?

“Your Grace?” Greyjoy gasped, held down against the war table, his arm twisted behind his back. 

“Shut up,” Robb muttered, running a hand through Theon's tawny hair. “Don’t call me that.” 

“Robb?” Theon asked again, a tinge of worry in his voice. Robb wasn’t letting him go, and he didn’t dare try to escape. 

He slipped his boot knife out and let Theon’s arm go to shove his skirts up and out of the way. Robb trailed the knife down Theon’s thighs and he heard the other man’s breath quicken. “What are you doing, Robb?”

“I told you to shut up,” Robb growled, pressing himself against Greyjoy and reaching around to slice through his laces. He wanted Theon to feel him hard and wanting against him. He stabbed the knife into the table by his face, watching Theon’s eyes go wide and his mouth snap shut. Robb was rough and quick tugging Theon’s breeches to the ground. He made quick work of his own. “I want to fuck you against this table and you’ll like it.” 

Robb fumbled his way around and felt he wasn’t the only one hard. _He's always bragging about women and his big cock, but he's hard from this._  “You already do like it.”

“Fuck,” Theon panted, going slack against the table as he rocked into Robb’s hand. Only in his fever dreams, Theon had thought, would this ever happen. “Robb.” 

He knew little about fucking a man. It hadn’t been something Robb had dwelled on before the war, but he had always noticed Theon in the hot springs, in the baths, shedding his clothing after a training. He had always wondered. Robb swallowed and leaned down to whisper against his ear. “I… I need this. I need you.” 

Theon seemed to consider. Anyone could walk in. His bloody mother could walk in. What would they say about Balon’s son? They already called him a fool and savage’s get. What did it matter? He hadn’t seen his father in half a lifetime... Greyjoy tried to steady his hands as he reached back and spread himself for Robb, for once silent. How could he deny his King?

Robb pushed the head of his cock against his hole and found himself stuck, Theon shuddered and whined.  _ A woman is supposed to be wet…  _ He spit into his hand and stroked his cock, and he bent down without thinking, bringing his tongue to Theon’s ass. 

“Shit,” Theon gasped suddenly. Robb’s tongue worked its way inside him, teasing him, wetting him. Theon bucked beneath him and Robb stood suddenly and forced him back down. “Do it. Get on with it.” 

He stroked his shaft and forced himself against the glistening hole. Robb groaned as his head met force and he thrust his hips. A tight ring of muscle clamped down on him and seemed to swallow his cock as he pushed ahead. Theon sucked in air, legs shaking, tiny gasps of pain escaping him. But he was a Greyjoy, and he never thought twice if he was taking some maiden wet or dry or new or old so he said nothing and let Robb have his way. Something about that thought stirred in his cock.

“So tight,” Robb panted, thrusting into him slowly. He knew he was hurting Theon but lust and rage walked a fine line in him. He rolled his hips and Theon knocked the remaining war figures from the table, letting them roll across the uneven ground. He planted his feet firmly and buried himself to the hilt.  _ I’ll spill inside him like this, so fucking tight.  _ Robb moaned and rocked his hips, pulling Theon back against him, his balls slapping against his ass. Theon’s cock bounced against the table's edge, hard and leaking, as Robb thrust faster and more frantic. His voice was heavy, husky as he said, “Theon, fuck, you feel so good.”

Theon was undone at his words, rocking back against him, the burning pain melting away into pleasure. He was being fucked like a woman by a Stark, the shame burned in his cheeks but his cock twitched with need. His bit his lip, trying not to beg. Robb was rough, but controlled. Not at fucking all what he needed after blood and gore and not an ounce of it for his father to see. He clamped a hand over his mouth as Robb hit some part of him inside… what the hell was  _ that?  _ Theon could hold back no longer. “Hard-harder. Fuck me, Stark. Let them think I’m battle wounded and limping, just fuck me.”

Blood rushed in his head, in his cock and Robb felt feral at the sound of their flesh meeting.  _ Gods, I’m so hard, so fucking hard. I’m going to claim that ass as my own, fuck.  _ He was bruising Greyjoy’s hips with each smack and he let himself go. Robb groaned, “Theon.”

Theon wondered if this is why women screamed his name, his cock hitting some part of them inside that felt better than the first time Ros sucked him off. Every part of his stomach was a taut bow string. He just needed to let go. Without thinking, he his grabbed his cock and stroked himself wildly, relaxing into Robb’s thrusts, letting himself scratch and roll over the damn map of Westeros. No control, Robb had all of it, and Theon felt the bow tighten and snap, spilling his seed in his hand and feeling his legs give out with it all. Waves crashed through him, a reminder of the ocean and he was a doll in Robb’s hands, held in place.  _ Strong, he’s strong.  _ The other part, the “unlike me” part, he ignored and waded deeper into pleasure. He might as well drown.

“Theon,” Robb panted again, his release taking him hard and fast, and he spilled deep into Greyjoy’s ass, rocking as his cock twitched inside him.  _ Thank the gods he’s not a woman,  _ Robb  thought vaguely as he rested a moment on top of him, trying to get his legs and wind back, still inside Theon. As he pulled out his softening cock, Robb saw how wide he’d split Theon, a small drop of blood, his seed starting drip out of him as Theon twitched and contracted. He was still bent over the table. Barely able to move himself, he tilted Theon’s chin to capture his lips, but Theon turned away, eyes squeezed shut, cheeks flushed and he buried his head in his arm. Robb realized then, the fullness of what he had done. What they had done. He stumbled back and Theon did, too.  _I'm a King and he's my adviser, my best friend. And two thousand men are still dead at my command._

The days did not pass easy. When Theon asked Robb to send him away, back to his father, Robb swallowed the guilt and sent him.


	4. Jon/Theon: Pre-Series

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon/Theon: Set pre-series, some Jon/Theon smut that didn't quite make it into Heart of the North. Implied Jon/Robb, Theon/Robb.
> 
> Underage teens here, so there's that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fits into Heart of the North, but you don't need to be familiar with it to understand. Smut is smut, in any verse! 
> 
> Thanks for reading, as always!

“Come on, Snow,” Theon whispered, breath tickling his neck. Heat pooled in Jon’s loins and his face was hot. Theon nipped at his ear and Jon struggled not to throw him off and show him... something or the other. But Theon knew well more what he was doing than Jon did, and he hated it, craved it still. The last thing he should have been doing was drinking alone in his room with Theon Greyjoy. Again. “I showed you how to suck a man proper; do this little thing for me.”

“Little thing,” Jon hissed, Greyjoy’s weight on him, pinning his arms behind his back and pressing his face into the furs. “Sticking me there is no little thing!”

Theon chuckled and his hard prick seemed to pulse against Jon’s back, so aware of it he was. His own member was trapped painfully against the bed, every movement torture. “Are you saying I have a big cock, Snow?”

“Big head, more like,” he huffed, stifling a groan as Theon shifted.

“Oh, that, too.” He could practically see the grin on his stupid face. Jon sucked in a breath as Theon freed himself from his underclothes and savagely tore Jon’s own coverings away, running the tip of his prick where the gods split him. Jon’s cock twitched, impatient, and a moan too needy for his liking escaped him. “You like that, don’t you, bastard?”

Jon tried to spit out a witty retort but Greyjoy was right, and despite everything he knew about the world and how it worked, he struggled desperately to shimmy his ass closer to the older boy. He closed his eyes, wishing Theon were someone else but all too pleased to receive the attention at all. “Shut up, Greyjoy.”

It was pathetic and weak, drowned out by lust. Theon was infuriating, arrogant and smiling at all the wrong moments, but his cheekbones rode almost at high as the Tullys’. And that was so much like...

Theon spanked him then, as though he were a naughty child and shame burned him red. Greyjoy let up on his arms to palm Jon's flesh and spread him open. “No risk of fathering a bastard this way, just enjoy something for once in your pathetic, brooding life.”

 _Gods, quiet him up so that I can._  He broke into panting breaths while Greyjoy sheathed himself up and down his crack, over his hole, prodding at his balls. A bit of fear took him and Jon wasn’t drunk enough for this. To be stretchedby something the size of  _that_  and with  _Theon Greyjoy_ in command of it _._  “Fine, but give me the damn skin of wine first.”

He drank fast and long, letting himself pretend it was the wine that made him hot and dizzy, and not Greyjoy’s thumb toying at his entrance. Theon laughed and bit at Jon’s back. Theon's fingers felt good tangled in his black hair. “Hair like a woman, now you’ll take a cock like one, too. Maybe you should’ve been Lord Stark’s bastard daughter the way you pant for it. Let’s put you in a dress one night, Snow.”

 _Fuck you_ , he thought, but he bit his lip. Theon slipped his thumb inside and Jon froze in surprise. “Relax, Snow. This is as good as a bastard is going to get. A highborn cock to fill you up, what more could a whore’s whelp want?”

Rage filled him and he made to shove Greyjoy right off, but just then Theon pumped his thumb and kissed his neck and all that happened was a strangled whine. Greyjoy disappeared and returned shortly, spreading him wider with two fingers covered in oil from the lamp. Greyjoy leaned down, the smell of mulled wine on his breath. “Shh, did I anger you, my lady? It’s a better thought than worry. Ease yourself or it will hurt. You’re still Eddard Stark’s favorite, and I can't have you limping to him in tears about what the Greyjoy did to you in the night. Or worse, tell Robb.”

“You talk too fucking much,” Jon mumbled instead, relaxing the muscles he had tensed, calming himself. Well, at least the fear had parted.

"And now you're wet for me, too." Greyjoy shoved his fingers to the hilt, rending him open. Jon shivered and in all his dreams that left him aching hard in the morning, he had never felt this much want. Dreaming it and feeling it... they were different after all. Theon lined himself up and pressed in, the heavy, fat head of his prick causing Jon to cry out and bury his fingers in the fur beneath him. “No, you’d never tell, Robb. He’d be horrified to know his brother Jon was a sword swallowing slut.”

“Grey...” Jon started, the word mangled by his own pleasure. Fuck, it hurt, but it felt so right, stretching full. His ass closed around Greyjoy’s thick cock and gloved him whole.

“Fuck, Snow,” Greyjoy panted, letting himself sink til he was balls deep. Jon gasped as Theon slid into place just like he had done with a dozen maids before. He moved slow at first, groaning in desire, before he lost himself to it, taking him faster. “Fuck, so fucking tight. B-better than a virgin cunt, Snow. Gods, you took my whole cock. Why didn’t I fuck your pretty ass sooner?”

It was the wine talking, but Jon liked knowing the effect he had on Greyjoy. It was the one time a low born bastard had the high ground. Theon finally shut his damn mouth as he slammed into Jon harder, faster, desperately grabbing his hips back, grunting like a beast. Theon’s balls slapped against his ass and Jon realized Greyjoy wasn’t the only one panting and grunting. Theon kept saying, “Fuck, yes. Your ass feels so fucking good. So fucking good, sweetling.”

Jon melted like snow in the spring as the sting passed into lightning joy. Every time Theon rammed inside Jon, his cock hit the mattress. Theon fucked him deeper, crushing him into the bed, his legs splayed, and Jon buried his mouth into wolf fur to stifle the scream. Whatever place Theon was hitting inside him sent molten fire to his belly and he could not think or see or hear, because all he imagined as Greyjoy pounded into him was Robb’s hands on his hips, Robb filling him deeper than any of his own fingers had gone, and Robb’s sweat dripping onto his back.

“Fuck, fuck, I’ll spill,” Jon panted, some sort of pressure he hadn’t felt before building inside him, driving him mad. “Fuck me, Stark. Hard, harder. Shit.”

He realized his error but Theon only moaned louder and moved faster. Jon rocked back against him best he could. Theon thrust once more before he stilled and spurted and throbbed inside of Jon’s heat. Greyjoy collapsed on top of him, his swollen prick softening and slipping out of him. Jon swallowed, still fucking hard but sure Theon would leave him to finish himself off, if only to spite him.

“C-come here,” Theon panted, turning him onto his back and leaning down to take Jon into his mouth. Greyjoy stroked himself languidly, swallowing Jon like he’d done a dozen times before and it was too much. At least Greyjoy's mouth was good for something, wet and hot on his cock. Jon ran his hands through Theon's hair, wishing it auburn. Greyjoy pulled away suddenly, leaving white ribbons to paint Jon's belly. 


	5. Heart of the North: Throbb Oral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Night King is coming and so is Robb. OR some Throbb 'night before the battle with the dead' smut that was cut for length in my fic Heart of the North.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The porn in the next chapter of Heart of the North got away from me. This fic contained so must UST it exploded everywhere, so this had to be cut for length, but it fits into Heart of the North after Ch 18. 
> 
> All you really need to know is that Robb is alive in this verse. Thanks for reading!
> 
> Some light dom/sub tones, giving orders, praise kink, Theon giving Robb a well deserved blow job. References Theon's torture.

He found Robb over the map of the castle, giving orders and reviewing the plan, looking it over for mistakes. Theon knew Robb was not fond of any idea that put his siblings in harm’s way. He was too injured to lead an attack himself. Robb almost ran Jaime Lannister through when he mockingly suggested Robb shelter in the crypts. 

“You’re not spending all night here,” Theon said, keeping his distance while the guards lingered. Robb glanced up and dismissed them. When the door swung closed again, Theon approached. He didn’t know how to behave anymore. They sung songs about the battle. Some called him a hero. Some spat at him when he passed.  _ Remember what you are and what you’re not.  _

What was he, now? Theon did not know. He tried to keep to himself, make himself useful. He had helped them tie together great spikes of felled trees to litter the yard and trenches. He knew knots better than most Northmen, any sailor did.  _ But I haven’t seen a boat in an age, let alone touch one.  _ The thought that he would die far from the sea unsettled him. The last time he prepared himself to die holding Winterfell had been against Ramsay.  _ That horn, all night. Maester Luwin. And then, then the cross. I woke on that cross. Cold water, and he had them, he had them dress as ironborn so I would think, so I thought that… Drowned God-- _

“Theon,” Robb said calmly, and Theon looked up at him. Robb’s hand was on his shoulder, his eyes concerned. Theon swallowed and breathed.  _ Ramsay is dead. What if… what if I see him? What if he’s out there, with them? What if--  _ “Come, let’s go to my chambers.” 

He walked behind Robb in a silent daze, counting the cracks in the stones as they passed.  _ I must not get lost. If I’m lost, Robb will be alone tonight. I must stay here. I’m Theon. Theon Greyjoy,  _ he told himself. He cursed himself for his weakness, but when he looked up, they were in Robb’s chambers and the door closed them in, alone. Robb tilted his chin up, to look into his eyes. “Are you with me?” 

“Yes,” he said, truthfully. Robb’s high cheeks and blue eyes, his hair curled into his eyes and his beard was trimmed short; he was rugged and enchanting, as always.

Theon licked his lips and wrapped his arms around Robb’s neck, kissing him fiercely. Robb stumbled, taken aback, but his good arm thrust their hips together. Robb always kissed like the King he was, commanding and gallant. His tongue ran over his bottom lip and Theon opened to claim him, to be claimed by him. He moaned against Robb, feeling Stark harden between them. He cradled Robb’s head in one hand, tasting him, hoping to drown in him. His other hand fell to Robb’s breeches and stroked him through the cloth. Robb gasped, pulling back, his breath heavy and his eyes dark with want. “I want you, Theon. I want all of you. Now, I cannot wait any longer. What you do to me...” 

“Then take me,” he dared, palming Robb’s hardening prick as he shoved Theon back against the wall, teeth biting along his jaw. It was hard to stamp down the fear he felt at any touch, but he wanted this, if this should be the end. He wanted Robb to have everything. “Run me through until you spill. Fuck me. Make me yours.” 

“Help me,” Robb commanded, begrudgingly stepping back to tug at his cloak with his good hand. “I had to tear open my bloody arm, didn’t I?”

“Better your arm than your cock,” Theon murmured, untying Robb’s cloak. “I should know.”

Robb growled against his ear, “I’m still going to suck you there. I’m going to milk your torn skin until you spill in my mouth. I’ll use my tongue, everywhere. Lick your hole until it opens and begs for my cock.”

“Hungry wolf, you are,” Theon chuckled, the unfamiliar sensation lightening him as he rid Robb of his cloak and leathers, his undershirt. He dropped to his knees to untie his laces. Though he felt a twinge where his cock once was, it was much harder to lust. Robb was skilled, though, he would draw it from him with burning touches. Theon pressed his face against Robb’s bulging breeches, breathing in his musk and tonguing him through the cloth. Robb bucked his hips with a moan. “I’ve neglected my King too long. I’ll swallow your cock first. Calm you down a bit before you ravish me into nothing. There’s still a war just hours away.” 

Robb’s fingers descended into his hair as Theon rolled his breeches down. “My boots first. Take them off. Then your own clothes. I want to see all of you.”

“Little to see…” Theon muttered, but Robb yanked his hair hard and forced him to look up. “Your Grace.”

“Do as your King commands, Greyjoy,” Robb panted, a small smile curling his lips.  _ He does want me,  _ Theon thought, disbelieving. He fumbled with his boots, his hands clumsy without all his fingers, but he pried them off. Once Robb was standing naked, Theon drank him in. He was toned, his cock at the ready. It stood there, proud, hard, leaking for him. He traveled the length of Robb’s skin. The scars were a violent, angry red, but it only made Theon want him more. Of course even death wouldn’t kill Robb Stark.  _ He and Jon…  _ He moved to take Robb in hand, but he caught his wrist. “Your clothes, Theon.”

He glanced away, but supposed he need not look upon his own skin. It upset him, to see himself, so he kept his eyes locked on Robb’s while he discarded his breast plate, loosened his neckline and from pried it from his body. He stood and swallowed his shame while he shed his boots and breeches. Before he could realize what had happened, Robb pressed him back against the wall, his good hand massaging his neck, running down his chest as Robb  _ looked _ , saw all of him. He crowded Theon, scenting his neck, lazily stroking his prick. Robb kissed a line up his neck. “You’re beautiful.”

“Robb,” he choked out, not wanting to hear such lies, but his heart pounded despite himself. 

“Theon,” he said in return, capturing his mouth, pressing their bodies flush together, his manhood trapped between them. Robb rocked his hips, the underside of his cock sliding alongside his scars. Theon shuddered and bucked, wishing he was whole, that he could take their cocks in hand together. Robb chuckled at Theon’s cry, shoving him down to his knees, his prick dripping with his want, full mast, awaiting Theon’s mouth.  _ Such an eager boy.  _

“Look at me while you suck me,” Robb ordered and Theon shuddered, his face flushing hot. He liked it, Robb in control, telling him what to do, putting him in his place. It felt shamefully  _ good _ and he knew, he knew it was sick after everything that happened, but gods did he not want to think during this. 

“As my king commands,” he breathed, fingers wrapping around Robb, licking the joint of his leg, nuzzling into his dark curls and drawing his balls into his mouth. He kept his eyes up, never looking away as he rolled Robb’s purse across his tongue. He trailed his tongue from base to tip, suckling and swirling across his slit. Robb’s shuddering breaths were his reward as Theon teased him with gentle licks at his sensitive head. 

Impatient, Robb forced Theon’s head down, leading him to take the whole of his length into his mouth, and Theon smiled around his cock. He relaxed himself and took him, feeling Robb’s hardness slide down. He swallowed, letting the walls of his throat coax Robb’s seed forward. The bitter taste only encouraged him as he hollowed his cheeks and bobbed his head up and down. Robb’s gaze was intense, his fingers gentle in his hair as Robb licked his lips watching Theon worship his cock. Robb’s breath picked up and he said, “That’s it, Theon. Good... fuck, you’re so good. Don’t stop... Good boy…”

Theon moaned, fingers sneaking between his own legs, rubbing himself, feeling the rush of blood travel south. This part was not so sensitive as it once was, but it was still enjoyable. To spill, he would need something inside of him, but this was good. Robb’s pleasure was enough for the both of them. He took Robb deeper, pressed the back of his tongue hard into the underside of his cock as it slid in and out. Robb gasped, his grip in Theon’s hair almost painful, but he carried on, letting Robb’s bitter taste coat his tongue.

“I’m--fuck, I’m going to--” 

Theon hummed around Robb’s length as he came down Theon’s throat. He swallowed and licked Robb clean, attending him as his peak shook him.


End file.
